


Infinite Distance

by lachatblanche



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Space, M/M, Some Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2019-04-26 10:25:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14400198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lachatblanche/pseuds/lachatblanche
Summary: When they encounter an unfamiliar and seemingly-abandoned ship in the middle of nowhere in space, Captain Charles Xavier of the spaceshipGraymalkinheads out to investigate.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My first foray into Space fic!
> 
> Thank you to the Anon on tumblr who suggested the title!

The first rule of space travel is _never journey alone_.

Terrestrials usually roll their eyes at this, and the more vociferous will furiously deny that any such law exists in their planet’s Galactic Charter banning solo flight – and they’d be right. While company is preferable when undertaking a journey into outer space, solo space flight is completely legal and accepted and normal.

_Never journey alone_ is a maxim that is taught to every cadet in every flight academy in the galaxy, but it is not a rule that is written down, or ever enforced.

The truth is, _never journey alone_ is a saying not meant for those who travel anything less than a light year away. Terrestrials – people whose feet barely leave the planet, people whose longest foray into space is to go from their homes on dismal Plunth on holiday to the fiery, exotic Leidra and back again – don’t understand the reasoning behind the saying. Yet anyone who has gone on an exploratory mission into deep space knows: _never journey alone_ is perhaps the most important and necessary rule of space travel. At least, it is if you don’t plan on going insane in your one/five/ten year trip into deep, dark, _lonely_ space.

Sanity, they say, mangling on Old Earth saying, loves company.

Which is why Captain Charles Xavier of the Cerebro Class V ship _Graymalkin_ can’t entirely believe what he’s seeing in front of him.

‘Are you sure?’ He turned to First Officer Summers, his eyebrows raised high. ‘Are you sure that’s what it is?’

‘System identified her, sir,’ Alex responded immediately, not even bothering to take offence at the captain’s disbelief. ‘That’s a Magnus Class IV ship right there.’ He paused, before continuing, unable to help himself. ‘How many times have you seen one of _those_ , eh, sir?’

Charles frowned. ‘On a telescreen? Maybe twice – and only then when I was studying for my third year exams as a cadet. In real life?’ he paused, studying the rounded, graceful flanks of the ship on the monitor in front of him with hungry eyes. ‘Never.’

Sean Cassidy, their junior navigator, was frowning. ‘Why not?’ he asked, looking puzzled as he glanced at the Magnus. ‘Is it an old ship?’

‘No,’ Charles shook his head even as Alex let out a derisive snort. ‘No older than many ships in the fleet. The age of the ship isn’t the important thing here, Mr. Cassidy. It’s its provenance.’

‘Where it’s from, dumbass,’ Alex added when Sean’s frown only deepened. 

‘Oh,’ Sean blinked. ‘Where’s it from then?’

Charles and Alex exchanged a look. 

‘Genosha,’ Charles said quietly. 

Sean’s eyes went wide. ‘Whoa.’ He turned to look at the ship on the screen, his expression wary. ‘What’s a ship from the Genosha system doing all the way out here?’

‘I don’t know,’ Charles said grimly. ‘But I intend to find out.’ He turned to Darwin, on Communications. ‘Hail the ship, Mr. Munoz,’ he said calmly, before turning to Alex and murmuring, ‘Put the shields up by fifty percent, Officer Summers. I doubt that the Magnus will dare fire on us in what is clearly the Galactic Collective’s space, but it can’t hurt to be careful.’

‘Adjusting shields,’ Alex complied, tapping at the keys in front of him. He paused before continuing. ‘Shields have been increased by fifty percent, Captain.’

‘Thank you, Alex,’ Charles said calmly. He turned to Darwin. ‘Any luck, Mr. Munoz?’

Darwin frowned and then shook his head. ‘Sorry, Captain. The Magnus’s comms seem to be down.’

Charles sighed. ‘I suspected as much.’ He turned to Alex. ‘Officer Summers, take command. Darwin, will you summon Angel and Hank to the hangar? Tell them that I’ll meet them there.’

Sean frowned. ‘The doc?’ he asked, looking puzzled. ‘Why are you taking – oh.’ He suddenly looked anxious. ‘You think the people on board are okay?’

‘Let’s hope so,’ Charles said grimly, rising from his seat. ‘Alex, you have the floor.’

Alex looked conflicted. ‘Are you sure you won’t need me?’ he asked, looking troubled.

‘Protocol, Alex,’ Charles said wryly, but he gave him a genuine smile. ‘We’ll be fine.’ He turned to Darwin. ‘Have you tried scanning for life forms?’ he asked, even as he double-checked the charge on his gun and returned it to his hip.

‘I tried,’ Darwin said grimly. ‘But no luck. Those Magnus ships have some powerful shielding.’

‘Don’t they just,’ Charles agreed, even though his own expression mirrored Darwin’s. ‘Alex, stand by for emergency evac, I want you ready in case this turns messy.’

Alex looked even unhappier than before. ‘Are you sure—’ he began again but Charles cut him off.

‘Yes,’ he said decisively. ‘Now prepare to open hangar doors, I’ll hail you when we’re ready.’

‘Understood,’ Alex said with a nod, and with that, Charles turned and headed for the lift down to the hangar.

Angel and Hank were already there waiting for him.

‘Darwin informed you about what’s going on?’ Charles asked briskly as he led the way onto the medium sized shuttle that they were going to use to approach the Magnus. It would perhaps have been sufficient to use a smaller shuttle, considering how near the Magnus was, but Charles did not know how many people were on board the other ship, and had decided to go for a larger shuttle in case a rescue was needed. Besides, he thought grimly, a bigger shuttle meant better shields and a slightly stronger fire power, which might very well come in handy, considering that they were going into this situation blind.

‘He did,’ Angel nodded, even as the shuttle doors closed behind them and they made their way to the cockpit. ‘Though I gotta say, a Magnus class ship out here? I’m going to need a closer look before I believe that one.’

‘You’ll be getting it,’ Charles said with a grim smile, strapping himself in to the pilot seat. Though he did not fly the _Graymalkin_ , he was nevertheless an excellent pilot, as his academy record showed. ‘Keep your eyes peeled, both of you – we aren’t entirely sure what it is we are walking into here.’

‘Understood,’ Hank and Angel said in unison, both looking serious.

Charles glanced at them, making sure that they were both fully strapped in, before reaching out and flicking on several of the switches on the ship’s dashboard. ‘All right, Alex,’ he said, as the shuttle came to life beneath him. ‘We’re ready.’

‘Good luck, Captain,’ Alex said, his voice crackling slightly through the comms unit even as the hangar doors opened in front of them. ‘We’ll keep the comm lines open.’

‘Thank you, Alex,’ Charles said smoothly. Then he grasped hold of the throttle and pushed.

One moment they were inside the ship’s hangar. The next, they were in the vast, dark expanse of open space, surrounded by an almost suffocating amount of nothingness.

They didn’t have time to sit back and enjoy the view, however. Before they knew it, they had reached the broadside of the Magnus Class IV, and were preparing to attach themselves to the hull.

‘Look,’ Hank said quietly, peering out of the window. ‘It’s got a name.’

This close, there was evidence of old paint peeling off the side of the ship. As with most ships – even those from the Genosha system, it seemed – the name was written in Modern Galactic, making it slightly easier to read the fading letters. Charles squinted, trying to piece the name together. ‘Mag …’ he frowned, wondering if the ship had just been labelled with its own classification. 

‘ _Magneto_ ,’ Hank said softly.

There was silence as he, Charles and Angel took this in. Then there was a _beep_ as the shuttle announced that they had made a successful connection to the _Magneto_. A successive _beep_ notified them of the completion of the atmospheric safety checks and a third and final _beep_ signalled that the ship was now ready for boarding.

Charles unstrapped himself from his seat and stood up. ‘Are you both armed?’ he asked in a low voice, glancing at his crew.

Both Angel and Hank nodded, their expressions solemn.

Charles took a deep breath. ‘Right,’ he said, forcing a quick smile. ‘Then let’s go and take a look at our very first Magnus.’ And he turned and led the way out of the cockpit and headed towards the shuttle doors.

They paused in front of the door as the monitor scanned the area beyond for threats. It hummed as it processed the information and then there was a _ping_ as the results came back.

‘Oxygen levels are low, Captain,’ Hank reported, sounding grim. ‘Dangerously low, in fact. I’m not sure if—’ he saw the look on Charles’s face and immediately stopped talking. 

‘Our shuttle’s ventilator is fixing the air problem,’ Angel said firmly. ‘And our uniforms should combat any unforeseen changes in pressure or atmospheric issues.’ Fleet uniforms were top of the range, and were designed to withstand most hazardous situations. 

Charles nodded. ‘Shall we proceed?’ he asked calmly, his expression inscrutable. 

Angel and Hank answered in the affirmative and so, with a press of a button, the shuttle doors opened and the captain led the way onto the deck of the _Magneto_.

‘You getting this, Alex?’ Charles asked quietly as they slowly made their way through the corridors of the ship, each of them on high alert. 

‘Loud and clear, Captain.’ Alex’s voice sounded through their earpieces. ‘We’re mapping the Magnus’s architecture as you go. It’s … it’s pretty damn huge, sir.’

‘It’s beautiful,’ Charles agreed in a soft voice, even as he looked around. Fleet ships were modern and functional, with every square foot of space utilised for maximum efficiency. The Magnus, however, was large and roomy, with corridors wide enough for five to walk abreast; Genoshans were, as Charles remembered from his cadet training so long ago, a very community-minded people. The décor also reflected the prosperity of the Genosha system, the sleek and shiny metallic linings of the wall no doubt sourced from Genosha’s famed Hammer Mines.

It was a pity the journey to Genosha still took nearly a decade, Charles reflected as he traced a finger over the seamless metal. Travel between the systems was rare because of that, and though many were willing to make the journey for the sake of obtaining Genosha’s rare and exceedingly valuable adamantium ore, the Genoshans themselves were less keen on journeying out in return.

Which was what made the _Magneto_ ’s presence in their star system so puzzling.

‘Sir.’ Hank’s voice broke into Charles’s thoughts as they approached a set of doors. There was a security screen on the side but it was dull, indicating that the system was either down or had been deactivated. Charles glanced at Angel and Hank and tightened his grasp on his phaser. Then, with a nod, they pushed their way in to the room beyond.

It was the cockpit. Like the rest of the ship, it was empty, devoid of all signs of life. The emptiness was strangely unnerving; the distinct lack of a pilot in an undocked ship – something that was considered a major transgression in the fleet – made the area seem somewhat unnatural. Charles and the others shared a glance.

‘Sir – the dashboard,’ Angel said in a low voice. Charles followed her gaze and then slowly approached the terminal. Despite the different symbols and systems, he found, to his surprise, that the layout of the ship’s dashboard was relatively similar to that of his own ship. He ran his gaze over it, his eyes lingering briefly on a single intermittent flashing red light. 

‘It was on autopilot,’ he said quietly as Angel took a step forward, her brow furrowed. ‘From what I can tell it was set for the nearest friendly ship in Galactive Collective space. In other words, _us_.’ He grimaced, his eyes drifting downwards towards the comms unit. ‘It seems that the ship ran out of juice before it could complete the mission or even send out an automated SOS.’ He shook his head. ‘It was fortunate that we were on the path heading straight towards it … it must have been here for days, waiting for us to come across it.’

The others were silent, taking this in.

‘Sir?’ Angel said after a moment. Charles glanced up at her and she nodded over to the right hand wall. ‘Comp unit, sir. We may be able to get the ship’s log and figure out whether there’s anyone aboard.’

Charles nodded briefly. ‘Get to it then, Officer Salvador.’

Angel didn’t need to be told twice; she was at the computer in an instant. It took her a moment to figure how to switch the unit on. Her face fell, however, when she saw the symbols on the screen which were clearly not in Modern Galactic. ‘Shit,’ she hissed. ‘Captain, I can’t—’

The computer beeped. The symbols on the screen disappeared and in their place arrived discernable letters and words, formed in the common Modern Galactic script.

Charles raised an eyebrow. ‘Automated user language recognition. Impressive.’ But Angel was already focused on her task, tapping away at the screen and attempting to ferret out its secrets.

‘Scanning for life forms,’ she announced a moment later. There was a pause.

‘Well?’ Hank asked, leaning over uneasily.

Angel shook her head. ‘Just three heat signatures, Captain,’ she said reluctantly. ‘And that’s us.’

Charles’s breath came out in a hiss. ‘Damn,’ he said, feeling suddenly tired. He felt Angel and Hank’s eyes on him and he shook his head. ‘Leave out the heat-signatures now, Angel. Search for carbon-based life forms aboard the ship.’ At Hank’s look he sighed. ‘We still need to assess how many people were aboard the ship and determine exactly how they—’

‘Sir!’ Angel interrupted, gesturing to the screen. ‘We have a single carbon-based life form aboard the ship, excluding ourselves.’ 

Charles pushed forward, his eyes intent. ‘Just one?’ he demanded, his brow furrowed. He quickly took in the information on the screen. ‘That’s – would you say that’s north of here?’

Angel nodded. ‘Yes,’ she said and pointed down the corridor. ‘That way.’

Charles shared a look with Hank. ‘Stay here and dig out the ship’s log, Angel,’ Charles said even as he and Hank began to jog down the corridor, phasers out. ‘And patch Alex in to the comp system so we can extract all necessary data.’

‘I’ll get right on it, Captain,’ Alex assured them through the comms.

‘Understood, Captain,’ Angel agreed, but he and Hank had already rounded the bend.

Charles’s face was grim as he and Hank moved swiftly down the corridor. A single carbon-based life form on the entire ship … what had happened here? And who or what was waiting for them on this ship?

‘Sir,’ Hank murmured as they approached a set of doors. There was a security screen on the side but like the monitor on the doors of the cockpit it was dull. Charles glanced at Hank. Then, with a nod, they both pushed their way inside.

It was an infirmary.

Like the cockpit, it was eerily empty. Beds lined the walls, each neatly made up with pressed sheets tucked in with military precision. Refrigeration units were situated at the sides, still running, no doubt due to a backup generator. Hank made a beeline for the nearest, curiously running his eyes over the tubes and vials inside. 

Charles, meanwhile, wandered through the infirmary, looking around curiously. He paused when he came to a door at the end of the room and glanced over at Hank. He waited until Hank gave him a nod and then entered, moving cautiously.

Beyond the door was an isolation chamber, enclosed by large transparent walls and framed by glaring caution signs. Charles wasn’t overly put off by this. Most larger ships had such chambers, though they were more particularly found in exploratory vessels in case the crew ran into unknown or toxic substances during their period of exploration. What did put him on guard, however, was the state of the room.

The place was a mess. While the rest of the ship that they had passed through appeared generally well-kept, the isolation chamber looked like a hurricane had torn through it. Cables were hanging loose, a refrigeration unit was lying on its side, and broken glass littered the floor.

‘Hank!’ Charles called sharply. Moments later, Hank was at his side, staring wide-eyed at the sight before them.

‘Someone’s been here,’ Hank said, astonished, pushing his glasses up his nose.

‘That seems to be obvious,’ Charles agreed wryly. ‘The question is _why_.’

Hank paused to think for a moment and then grimaced. ‘The worst case scenario?’ Charles raised an eyebrow at him. ‘This is a plague ship and everyone on board has bee wiped out by some sort of virus or pathogen. In which case—’

‘In which case we’ve been exposed already and don’t have long for this world,’ Charles finished grimly. 

‘Exactly,’ Hank nodded. ‘The good news, however, is that our suits and the rest of our tech haven’t sensed any sort of danger to our systems, so it appears unlikely that that’s the case. However …’ Hank paused.

‘Yes?’ Charles prompted him, impatient.

‘Captain,’ Hank said slowly, his eyes flicking quickly over the isolation chamber. ‘Correct me if I am wrong, but isolation chambers – they have their own power, don’t they? Their own generators?’

‘Yes,’ Charles said, frowning. ‘They have self-enclosed systems to prevent contamination. Why do you ask?’

But Hank had already surged forward, moving around the chamber eagerly, his eyes scanning it from all angles.

‘Charles,’ he said, sounding almost breathless. ‘The chamber is a closed system – it has its own power generator and more importantly, it has _its own oxygen supply_ , separate from the rest of the ship!’

Understanding dawned on Charles. ‘So anyone who knew that the power and life support would be failing in the rest of the ship …’

‘They might come here,’ Hank finished, stepping away at last. ‘Hoping for a better chance of survival.’

Charles looked at him. ‘We didn’t find any signs of life on board.’

‘I know.’

‘And we could potentially risk letting out a lethal pathogen if we open those doors.’

‘I know.’

‘And if we do then we could all—’

‘Begging your pardon, Captain,’ Angel interrupted via the comms, ‘but would you please just open that freaking door?’

Charles and Hank exchanged a glance. Hank shrugged.

Charles took a deep breath. ‘Okay,’ he said, stepping forward and moving towards the vacuum-sealed doorway to the isolation chamber. ‘Okay.’ He lifted his hand and raised it over the large round button at the door. He glanced one more time at Hank. Then he pushed down.

The doors opened with a _whoosh_. The taste of stale air hit Charles’s tongue and for a minute he lost all hope of finding anyone in the chamber. Then his eyes fell on the object at the end of the room.

It was a regeneration pod. Charles felt his breath catch. Pod tech wasn’t the most sophisticated, with Cryo pods being outrageously – and prohibitively – expensive despite lasting no longer than a handful of years at a time, but Regen pods were used in almost every ship in the galaxy. They were short-term pods, generally used when it was necessary to buy the patient more time, keeping them in stasis and preventing further cellular damage while the body built up its strength and resistance. More importantly, each pod had several months’ worth of oxygen in supply.

‘Captain,’ Hank murmured. 

But Charles was already looking. A length of cable snaked from the various refrigeration units in the chamber, with the pipes cannibalised from other parts of the room to link them up. They were fused together, in what had to have been a very hasty and rushed job, and they were plugged into the Regen pod through a vent. 

‘My god,’ Charles whispered, following the run of cable with wide-eyes. His eyes fell on an empty vial on the floor, next to a used hypodermic syringe. He couldn’t read the label on the vial, but something told him beyond all doubt that the bottle had contained an anticoagulant. ‘God – Hank – they’ve made themselves a Cryo pod.’

‘ _Fascinating._ ’ Hank’s eyes gleamed in scientific interest, looking over the pod curiously. ‘And of course that’s why we picked up no heat signatures …’ He turned to Charles, looking eager. ‘We should take this back to the _Graymalkin_.’

Charles frowned. ‘How?’ He gestured at the cables that linked the pod to the chamber. ‘There’s no way to do that without deactivating the pod.’ He bit his lip before shaking his head. ‘There’s no other way. We have to open it now.’

‘Now?’ Hank grimaced. ‘It’s not – well it’s not exactly _ideal_.’ He ran a hand over his face before sighing. ‘But – it seems to be the only choice we have,’ he conceded at last. He turned to Charles and nodded. ‘Okay then. Let’s do it.’

Charles nodded back grimly and, carefully stepping over the cables, gently ran a hand down the face of the pod. He couldn’t see inside due to the opaque lid and the inbuilt screen (the only readings that Charles could make out were the numeric temperature levels; the rest of the readings were all in High Genoshan) but he hoped beyond hope that there was something left to save inside. 

‘Hold on,’ he told the pod’s inhabitant softly, his hand lingering on the pod. ‘We’re going to get you out of there.’ His hand drifted down to where a large red button was situated on the edge of the pod, its purpose obvious. ‘I promise.’

Then he gritted his teeth and pushed down hard on the button that powered down the pod.

The effect was immediate. Lights started to blink, the temperature readings started to increase drastically and steam started to pour out of the vents. Charles shared an anxious look with Hank; Regen pods kept the body at a low temperature but the temperatures required for freezing for Cryo were a lot greater. If the person inside the pod hadn’t known what they were doing then it was very possible that all that they would find when the pod lid opened was a lifeless frozen husk.

It took several minutes for the pod to reach room temperature. The pod remained closed for a little longer. Charles had only been through the Cryo process once before, when he had travelled from his home planet of Westchestria to the Fleet Academy in the Corvin system. It had been years ago but he still remembered the thawing-out process with a shudder. Being thrust back into wakefulness after so deep a sleep was more than a little frightening and disorientating.

There was a long pause. Then the flickering red lights in the surface of the pod all steadily turned green, one by one. 

Charles took a step back.

With a loud _beep_ the lid of the pod rose up. A mass of gas and steam rose up from the opened pod, obscuring their vision. 

A sudden indrawn hoarse rattle of breath met their ears and Charles just had time to shoot Hank an anxious glance before he was suddenly met with a mass of flailing limbs as a weak and shivering human body collapsed onto him.

‘Whoa—’ Charles immediately grasped hold of the person in front of him, only just recovering his balance in time to keep them both up. ‘Hank, I need—’ His words stopped abruptly, his breath catching in his chest, as the body in his arms suddenly moved. Surprisingly strong hands gripped him tightly by the collar of his uniform, with long, bony fingers digging into the material. 

‘Charles!’ Hank called out in alarm but Charles’s attention was arrested by the sight before him. He watched, holding his breath, as the body lifted its head and he let out a hiss as he was met by the sight of a sharp, angular male face – a face whose features were racked by a terrible, unimaginable amount of pain.

‘Help me,’ the man gasped out, holding Charles’s eyes in an intense feverish gaze. ‘Help me. Please.’

Then he passed out.


	2. Chapter 2

Captain Charles Xavier paced the length of the corridor outside the infirmary of the _Graymalkin_ , his jaw tense and his brow furrowed. Inside, Chief Medical Officer Hank McCoy presided his newest patient, the stranger from the Genoshan ship _Magneto_.

They had arrived back an hour ago and the stranger had been rushed into the medical bay for treatment. As far as Charles knew, the man would remain unconscious for some time longer, but this hadn’t stopped Charles from restlessly hovering over him – at least, it hadn’t until Hank had sternly taken Charles by the arm and had forced him to leave the room. Since then he had haunted the outside of the infirmary, filled with strange and unexpected anxiety for their newest shipmate. 

That was not to say that he had neglected his duties as Captain. Angel had remained on the _Magneto_ to continue delving into the ship’s system and one of the first things that Charles had done after returning to the _Graymalkin_ was to send a second boarding party to join her and survey the rest of the Magnus. He had ensured that his First Officer, Alex Summers, was in charge of directing the boarding and retrieval of information and had then retreated to the confines of his own mind, his thoughts racing as he paced up and down outside the infirmary doors.

Who was the man that they had brought on board? How had he come to be alone on the _Magneto_? How _long_ had he been on the _Magneto_? And more importantly – why? Why had the ship come here, all this way from the Genosha system?

Charles clenched his jaw as he thought it through. It seemed almost certain that the man had been fleeing something. But had he fled in search of help or was he simply trying to escape? Was he being chased? And – if that were the case – was there still danger of pursuit?

Charles frowned and placed a hand over his communicator. ‘Alex,’ he spoke softly, directing his communication into private mode. ‘I’d like you to keep a sharp eye on the scanners for me. The shields are still up, yes?’

‘Yes sir,’ Alex replied at once, his voice equally low. ‘Are we expecting trouble, sir?’

‘… No,’ Charles said after a pause. ‘Not _expecting_ it … but it doesn’t hurt to be prepared.’

‘No it doesn’t, sir,’ Alex agreed grimly. ‘Leave it to me. I’ll make sure we’re on alert without worrying the crew.’

‘Good man,’ Charles let out a sigh of relief. Alex could always be counted on. It was why Charles had made him his First Officer.

‘Has our visitor woken up yet, sir?’

Charles shook his head, then caught himself. ‘No,’ he said aloud. ‘Not yet. But Hank is working on it.’

‘Then he’ll be right as rain in no time,’ Alex said confidently. ‘Is there anything else, Captain?’

‘No, Alex. That’s all.’ Charles let out a sigh and glanced at the infirmary doors. They remained resolutely shut. ‘I’ll be with you shortly. Just – give me a little while.’

‘Take all the time you need, sir. I’ll ping you when we have the results of our analysis of the _Magneto_.’

‘Thank you, Alex. Xavier out.’ Charles pressed the button on his communicator, allowing his shoulders to slump slightly.

Then, taking a deep breath, he resumed pacing.

*****

One hour later, the man woke up.

Charles almost wasn’t prepared for it. Although he still remained stationed outside the ship’s infirmary, his thoughts had been fixed squarely on dealing with the concerns of their current situation, with his meditations only occasionally broken up by Alex’s frequent updates regarding their recon of the _Magneto_.

He had just finished receiving one such report from the main deck when the doors to the infirmary opened and Hank popped his head out and blinked at him.

‘Our patient is awake, sir,’ he informed Charles in a low voice. ‘We’ve given him a quick look-over and he seems relatively healthy, considering how we found him. He should be ready to speak now if you want to question him.’

‘Oh,’ Charles sat up, blinking as he adjusted himself back in the present. ‘Right. Of course.’ He stood and followed Hank into the infirmary.

Although Charles had had ample time to study the stranger while conveying him from the _Magneto_ to the _Graymalkin_ , it occurred to him as he followed Hank that he had not actually _looked_ at the man. At the time all he had been concerned about was the man’s survival, and he had focused his attention almost wholly on the stranger’s vital signs, his dangerously low core temperature and the gauntness of his body. It was only when he approached the sole occupied berth in the medical bay that Charles actually took the time to study the man’s face.

He was handsome, was the first thing that Charles noticed with detached surprise. Though gaunt of face as well as body, there was something attractive about his countenance, with his strong jaw and direct piercing gaze. That gaze was currently fixed unflinchingly upon Charles.

‘Who are you?’ the man demanded as Charles and Hank approached. His body was taut, his hands clenched into fists, but he did not look like he was likely to launch into a physical attack. If indeed, he even had the strength to. ‘Where am I?’

Charles gave him a reassuring – if slightly strained – smile of welcome. ‘Please, my friend, calm yourself,’ he said gently. ‘You are among friends here. I am Captain Charles Xavier of the ship _Graymalkin_ , envoy of the Galactic Fleet. We are currently half way between the Primus System and the Zarat System and we were en route to Nova One when we came across your _Magneto_ – well inside the confines of Galactic Collective space, I should add. Does that satisfy you?’

The man looked at him, appearing slightly lost, as if he didn’t know what to do with the answers to his questions now that he had them.

Charles turned to look at Hank, who frowned at him and mouthed _slow down_ , his expression disapproving.

Charles sighed. ‘Perhaps we should start in a simpler fashion,’ he said kindly. ‘As I said, my name is Charles Xavier, and this here is Hank – Dr. McCoy. Would you mind telling us your name?’

The man stared at them, looking wary, as if he somehow expected the question to be a trick. When no trickery seemed to be forthcoming, he finally allowed his shoulders to lower slightly and he answered them. ‘Erik,’ he said shortly, his eyes moving cautiously between Charles and Hank. ‘Erik Lehnsherr.’

Charles smiled. ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, Erik,’ he said warmly. ‘We don’t often get to meet many Genoshans in this part of the galaxy.’ He paused, as if waiting for Erik to chime in, but the man just sat there, close-mouthed and tight-lipped. ‘Do you – would you mind telling me _why_ exactly you are in this part of the galaxy, Erik?’

Erik hesitated. He licked his lips, his mind visibly racing. Charles followed the movement and then glanced at Hank. Hank looked back at him, his eyebrow raised in query.

‘I …’ Erik paused and then grimaced. He set his jaw and looked up at Charles, meeting his eyes. ‘I come requesting Sanctuary.’ The words sounded almost reluctant, grudging.

Charles stared. Then he took a step forward. ‘Sanctuary,’ he repeated slowly. ‘You want Sanctuary …’ He paused, troubled. ‘Sanctuary from _what_ exactly?’

‘Are you going to give it to me or not?’ Erik demanded, his voice almost a growl. 

Charles shared a look with Hank. The Sanctuary Protocols were one of the most valued and fiercely-defended tenets of the galaxy. According to the Galactic Charter, all terrestrial settlements and Fleet vessels were required to accept any requests for Sanctuary from members of adjacent planetary systems with minimal delay, office and prejudice. To deny such a request would be to go against the core principle of the Galactic Collective’s very existence and Charles would need to have a damn well excellent reason to turn away anyone who invoked the call of Sanctuary in his presence – which of course, he had absolutely no reason to do.

And yet … 

‘There’s something you’re not telling us,’ Charles said quietly. ‘Something that you are keeping from us.’

Erik’s jaw tightened.

Charles sighed. ‘We want to help you,’ he said gently. ‘But in order to do so we need to have the facts. You need to give us _something_ , Erik. You need to tell us what you were doing alone on that ship. You need to tell us why you want our help.’

Erik was silent for a moment. Then he licked his dry lips and looked up at Charles, his eyes bright. ‘If I tell you—’ his voice was hoarse and dry, and Hank instinctively turned to hand him a water pod to drink from. ‘If I tell you – will you get us away from here?’

Charles went still. He shared another glance with Hank and then took a step closer. ‘Erik,’ Charles said quietly. ‘Erik – this is important. Are we in danger?’

Erik swallowed. He looked frail and tired and when he met Charles’s eyes there was a well of regret and sadness in his gaze that was startling. ‘Yes,’ he replied quietly, not looking away from Charles. ‘Oh yes. I am afraid that we are all in very great danger indeed.’


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick word of warning - this will not be a full-blown epic fic (it would easily pass 50k words if that were the case and honestly, this was really supposed to be a >1k ficlet to begin with!) so this does end on something of a cliffhanger. However, it should hopefully be fully readable and satisfying even so :)

Sebastian Shaw was a man who knew what he wanted. 

He had been born into a time when the world had been a smaller, bleaker space. A time before the Galactic Collective had taken root and had spread its puerile doctrine of harmony and peaceful co-existence. 

Shaw had never known peace; his planet had been a small, out-of-the-way hunk of rock that was continuously plagued by droves of ravaging off-planet hordes who descended upon his home-world like locusts on a wheat field, each time attempting to pick his world clean of its already limited resources. Too small and lacking in wealth to be of much use to any of the bigger planets, his home-world had been left to fend for itself, to live or die on its own merit. Or rather, for its inhabitants to live or die on theirs.

Life had been a battle for survival, a fight for existence that rewarded only the best of men. And Shaw, as he had quickly discovered, was easily the _very_ best. Aided greatly by his newly-discovered powers – the wondrous, unique Gifts which made him nigh on invincible – he fought back the invaders time and time again … and, much more unbelievably, he began to win.

As time went on he became a leader; then he became a folk-hero. And, as the years passed and he did not age and never died, he became a God.

Soon the defence of his planet was not enough. He was no longer content to wait for his enemies to come to him. Shaw became hungry for blood, hungry for war. And, with a planet full of devotees and acolytes who worshipped him as a God, he did not lack for manpower. Slowly, his reach began to extend. The raiders that had once picked his planet clean now fled from his power or else cowered down and joined him, swelling his ranks.

The first to fall were the planets that had dismissed the little hunk of space-rock that had orbited them, ever ignoring the pleas of its inhabitants for aid or protection or at least food and water to keep them alive. They fell swiftly, and bloodily, completely unprepared for the attack that came from nowhere, from a small, unimportant little rock that nobody cared for.

Then came the fall of the outer planets, because revenge was not enough, and Shaw’s followers had multiplied in thousands, drawn to him out of fear or else because of his power. Those who possessed Gifts like he did – those so far and few between, those rarities who did not know how special they were, how god-like – were revered by his followers and received a special place in Shaw’s retinue.

Planet after planet fell before him, and his ranks only grew.

In time, he conquered his whole solar system.

Shaw had now lived through several ages; the army that he had started with was not the one that followed him now. The power that he wielded was enormous, god-like. Once he had thought that conquering his star system would be sufficient, that he could be satisfied by it.

But it was not enough.

And so he began to turn his gaze towards the rest of the galaxy.

*****

In time, the Galactic Collective had flourished. Envoys had been sent out, diplomacy had succeeded, and there was peace among all the worlds.

… _Almost_ all.

The galaxy was a vast place. The Galactic Collective’s influence was great, but there were still vast swathes of space where its reach was minimal. 

It was in this dark half of the galaxy that Sebastian Shaw sowed the seeds of his power. When word first came to him that such a collective had been formed he could hardly believe it; that there was a power in the galaxy that could possibly rival his own was unbearable. 

Already he had swallowed up dozens of systems in his grasp for power. These systems, on the furthest reaches of the galaxy – far, far away from the influence of the Galactic Collective – had fallen with relative ease, so isolated were they in the expanse of space. Now, however, Shaw and his army were no longer on the far edges of civilisation. 

So far no word of them seemed to have escaped into the hearing of the Galactic Collective. Shaw intended for it to stay that way for as long as possible.

That, however, did not mean that he had to stay still and lay low.

And so he had set his eyes on a star system on the edge of the Galactic Collective’s borders. A jewel of a system that burned bright, filled with life and industry and riches beyond riches.

Genosha.

The attack had been swift, bloody, and wholly unanticipated. 

Planet by planet, they all fell. 

And then they had come to the planet Polus, the home world of the famed Hammer Mines. Shaw himself had set foot upon this planet; he had determined that Polus would be taken with greater care than the others, not only for its rich natural resources, but also for the fact that this planet, beyond any other, appeared to have a higher than average number of Gifted individuals.

Shaw may have been a warrior, but in his many centuries of living he had also developed a very healthy scientific curiosity, and in this case, in a way that did not happen often, he found his curiosity piqued.

He strode across the blood-soaked earth while his followers battled around him, taking in the glory of the planet before him, before coming to a stop at the edge of the vast canyon that opened up into the entrance of the Hammer Mines. Several small cosy houses surrounded the canyon’s edge, home to the miners that worked the mines. At Shaw’s nod, a number of his followers detached from the fray and ran to tear down the doors of the miners’ homes. 

New screams of terror filled the air. The miners themselves were already in the fight; the only ones that had been left alone had been the vulnerable women and the children. 

Shaw watched dispassionately as they were subdued, one by one. His attention was drifting away when a sudden shout from one of his soldiers made him look up just in time to see a thin, angular boy of fifteen or so years send a shard of metal through the chest of one of his men. The boy had been standing more than a hundred yards away.

Sebastian Shaw smiled. 

The boy had been dragged kicking and screaming away from his dead mother, his powers subdued and his hands bound tightly behind his back. Around him, shards of metal still shuddered and twisted despite the collar placed around his neck.

The boy was powerful. Shaw was well pleased. He would take a personal interest in this one, he decided. It had been a while since he had met anyone with powers that interested him quite so much and he could see much use in cultivating such a talent.

Shaw had stayed on Polus after that. He had taken the boy under his wing and had taught him how to fight and how to use his powers and, more importantly, how to obey. For over ten long years, the lessons seemed to have been learned very well.

And then one day, Shaw returned to Polus after overseeing the management of his troops to the east of the system, only to find that his seemingly obedient young ward had fled along with the prize ship that Shaw had arranged to be built specifically for his favourite’s upcoming name-day.

Shaw had taken in the sight of the cowering guardsman relaying the story to him and had laughed in delight at his ward’s sheer nerve. He’d then proceeded to break the guardsman’s neck before turning to the side and ordering three ships to be sent out in pursuit of his ward in order to bring him back.

Then he returned to his desk and calmly continued with his plans to take over the rest of the galaxy.

*****

*****

‘I’d fought off two ships by the time I was half-way here,’ Erik said dully, his eyes on the floor and his jaw clenched tight. ‘The third kept pursuing me, but I think I lost it for a while. But the damage was too much. My life-support systems were damaged and my power was failing.’ He took a deep breath and looked up into Charles’s eyes. ‘I programmed the ship to lock on to the coordinates of the nearest friendly ship in the galaxy and then went about trying to turn the ship’s only regeneration pod into a cryogenic one instead. It was the only way I could think of to survive.’

‘How did you—’ Hank began but Charles silenced him with a look.

‘It doesn’t matter how I did it,’ Erik said, shaking his head at the question. ‘I just did what I had to do. I put my faith in my ship and I sealed myself in the pod and slept. And then I woke up here.’

Charles nodded slowly. ‘I see,’ he said, his mind running fast. ‘Well now you are safe here, my friend. You have escaped and you no longer have to run. We have you now.’

But Erik had only tensed further and was shaking his head distractedly. Without warning, he suddenly reached out and grabbed Charles’s arm, yanking him closer, the expression on his face urgent. ‘You don’t understand,’ he hissed, his teeth gritted and his eyes bloodshot. ‘I did not run away from Shaw simply to _escape_.’

Charles held up a hand as Hank moved to intervene, stopping him, and he looked down at Erik with enforced calm, even though his heart was beating a mile a minute. ‘Then why _did_ you come here, Erik?’ he asked coolly.

‘I came here to _warn_ you.’ Erik’s grip on Charles’s arm tightened almost unbearably and he looked close to desperation as he spoke. ‘I came here to warn you _all_. Shaw is coming. Sebastian Shaw is coming and he is going to kill _everyone_.’

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Infinite Distance (Finite Time Remix)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14946492) by [Unforgotten](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unforgotten/pseuds/Unforgotten)




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